


dancing in the dark

by RonnieMinor



Series: Spirit of the Season - Teen Wolf Holiday Exchange fics [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieMinor/pseuds/RonnieMinor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He understands now; understands the mask he’s wearing is giving him freedom.” </p>
<p>A rewrite of the club scene in 2x08 ('Raving').</p>
            </blockquote>





	dancing in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: Costume Party
> 
> Basically, I decided I wanted to re-write the rave in 2x08 with masks, a serious lack of kanima and a serious increase in sex. And then it got fluffy. Whoops.

The rave’s supposed to be a secret, but with the constant trickle of people going into the old warehouse and the music that Jackson can hear from ten meters away, he’s pretty sure it’s not going to stay that way. Still, he’s here now, so he figures he might as well go in. Scowling for no particular reason, he pulls the mask down over his face and slips out of the shadows to head inside. 

He’s not sure why he decided to come in the end. Yeah, he likes to party as much as the next guy and it’s been a while since the last decent night out. The thing is he hasn’t been feeling much like himself lately. In fact, since the night of the full moon – the night of his complete _failure_ to turn into a werewolf – he’s been feeling a lot like somebody else. 

Tonight though… he’s not sure what it was, but when he saw the flyers – vibrant neon writing on a black background, shouting _warehouse rave, no mask, no entry_ – something inside told him that he had to be there. And so here he is, walking through the door, blood starting to pump in his veins in time to the heavy bass, leather mask already hot against his face. He has a sudden urge to take it off, only stopping when he remembers what the flyer said. 

Then he walks into the main room. 

It’s a sea of bodies, some coated in brightly-coloured UV paint, some waving glow sticks. The air is hot and heavy and damp with sweat, the flickering artificial lights and smoke machines making people stutter strangely as they move. Every single person is wearing a mask. 

Jackson stands and stares for a minute or two, taking in the bizarre spectacle of it all. His eyes wander over the mass of people, catching sight of neon colours and a wider range of masks than he ever would have imagined. Everything is there, from rabbits to dragons to strangely blank faces, some covering just the eyes, others the whole face. The overall effect is somewhere between spectacular and unsettling, not just because Jackson doesn’t recognise a single person. 

He’s still standing there when a girl darts out of the crowd, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the dancing. For a moment, he wonders if she knows who he is; wonders what she wants from him. Then realisation dawns: it doesn’t matter. He understands now; understands the mask he’s wearing is giving him a lot more than a cool costume: it’s giving him freedom. And with that thought in mind, he follows the girl into the sea of people in front of him. For the first time in a long time, he lets himself get lost. 

He’s not sure how much time passes. It could be anywhere between a few minutes and a couple hours really, but it feels like an eternity to him, one track blending into another until the music is just a continuous stream of beautiful sound. Briefly, the thought occurs to him that maybe the smoke he’s breathing in isn’t just dry ice. Then the lights catch a swirling design painted on someone’s arm in pink, green and yellow UV paint and his attention wanders again, caught up in the movement and euphoria of it all. 

Jackson doesn’t realise they’re there until he feels a hand on the back of his neck. Smooth fingers trail over damp skin as she walks around to face him. Her mask is a stylised cat, slits cut slanting and high over her golden eyes, the delicate nose resting just above her own. _His_ – when he makes an appearance – is something like a dog or a wolf, long nose coming down over his mouth and the sharp line of his jaw. Jackson feels the heat of their combined gaze against his skin – feels their _hunger_ – and he’s drawn in. 

Erica makes herself the centre of attention, pulling the two of them close and dancing between them both like her life depends on it. She moves like there’s nothing in the world she’d rather be doing; like her body was made for this. Her fingers curl into Jackson’s shirt as she leans in, masks bumping against each other as their lips touch. Then she’s twisting away and kissing Isaac, her hand still caught in Jackson’s shirt. He should be jealous – he knows he would have been if Lydia had ever tried something like this – but to his surprise, he finds it has the opposite effect, only making him want her more. And when he puts his hands on Erica’s hips, brushing Isaac’s fingers by mistake, he realises it’s not just Erica that he wants. 

Time becomes fluid again, moments dilating into minutes as they dance, bodies hot and alive under the bright lights. Erica’s fingers dig into Jackson’s hips almost painfully as she grinds against him, the friction a beautiful tease that leaves him half hard and wanting more. In retaliation, he slides his hand up her body and across her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple for a second. Her mouth widens in a gasp and he kisses her, his free hand reaching to fist in Isaac’s shirt. 

Then suddenly Isaac’s gone. Jackson pulls back from Erica, wondering where the other boy’s gone, wondering if he went too far. He’s answered moments later when strong hands settle on his hips and a pair of lips sweep over the pulse in his neck. He’s both relieved and aroused, his heart jumping in his chest, his pulse racing in his veins. Erica laughs and he can feel her breath against his skin. 

‘We can get out of here if you want’, Isaac shouts, just loud enough to be heard over the music, lips grazing against the shell of his ear. Jackson shivers, desire pulling tight somewhere low down in his abdomen. All the hair on his arms stands on end and his lips suddenly feel dry. He licks them, nodding and feeling almost light-headed. 

‘Yeah’, he shouts back. ‘Yeah, I’d like that.’ And when Erica smiles at him, all pleased and predatory, he smiles right back. Then he lets them lead him through the crowd, out of the warehouse and through the shadows to the subway station they’re calling home these days. 

In the semi-darkness, he lets them loosen the ties of his mask and slip it from him his face, watching intently as their shadowed hands pull the masks from their own faces. Almost shyly, he reaches out to touch the line of Isaac’s jaw. The other boy holds very still, like he’s waiting. It’s only when Jackson steps closer to kiss him that Isaac moves, one hand sitting comfortable in the small of Jackson’s back, the other resting on his shoulder. 

‘You have no idea how hot this is’, Erica says thickly, like she’s having trouble swallowing. Jackson is surprised how much he likes hearing her sound that way, his lips curving into an involuntary smile. Then Isaac licks his way into his mouth and makes him forgets about anything else for the time being. 

In fact, Jackson gets a little lost in the surprising softness of Isaac’s lips. The world narrows to the way their tongues move together, slick and smooth and perfect, and how Isaac’s fingers brush the skin above his waistband, making Jackson shiver in anticipation. Wordlessly he urges Isaac on, rolling their hips together. Isaac seems to take the hint, slipping his hand under Jackson’s still damp shirt, fingers pressing into the skin and just barely dipping below the elastic of his boxers. Jackson can barely hold back a moan, wanting so much more than the teasing touches that he’s getting. 

He pulls away from the kiss just long enough to whisper, ‘Take your shirt off’. Then he’s attacking Isaac’ lips again, trailing wet kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Isaac gasps as he bites down on the pulse point. Then he sucks in a shaky breath as Jackson flicks his tongue over the soft, salty-tasting skin there. His hands fumble with the bottom of his shirt and Jackson backs off just long enough to help strip him out of it before diving back in for another kiss, another chance to taste Isaac’s skin, another chance to make his heart jump. 

This time Isaac flat out _whines_ , the sound high and needy. Jackson feels his cock jump in his pants and bites down harder. Isaac’s hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscles there almost hard enough to hurt. Jackson rolls his hips forward instinctively, the sensation of it achingly good. 

A moan from behind them catches his attention. He turns, one hand still hooked into Isaac’s belt loops. And there on the mattress is Erica – her legs spread wide and her skirt pushed up around her waist – rubbing herself through her panties. The sight of her makes Jackson feel like he’s been sucker punched in the gut, a wave desire hitting him so strongly that he feels light-headed. And that’s the point where he just _loses_ it. 

All his inhibitions and worries go out of the wind in that moment. He turns back to Isaac, fumbling with his belt buckle until the other boy catches on and starts to get help. Then he starts on his own clothes, scrabbling frantically at his shirt, tugging at his jeans and boxers, kicking off his shoes. He scrambles up the mattress when he’s done, sliding his hands up Erica’s thighs and leaning forward to press a hot kiss to the smooth skin of her stomach. She gasps, the muscles in her abdomen quivering. He grins and traces his lips down, down, down, til his mouth rests against the damp fabric of her panties. He exhales hotly, knowing she’ll be able to feel it. He’s proven right as she moans again and bucks against him. 

‘Please’, she begs. ‘Please.’ 

And he does. 

She comes with a choked cry, back arching like a bow, his tongue flicking against her clit and his fingers inside her. Isaac sits behind her, his hands on her breasts, long fingers playing with her nipples as he presses open mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulders. From one to the other they’re connected, joined together by each other. Completely unexpectedly Jackson feels like he belongs. 

The feeling only deepens as the night continues. First, Erica watches as he and Isaac make out some more, rutting up on each other until they both come. Then the three of them fuck. First, it’s with Erica in the middle. Later they go again, Isaac thrusting into Jackson and Jackson pushing into Erica. It’s messy and sweaty and exhausting, and by the time it’s over Jackson feels delirious. While they’re getting cleaned up he assures the werewolves that he’s much too wired to sleep, but five minutes later he’s dead to the world. 

The next morning he extracts himself from the pile of limbs and hair and warmth that surround him with the excuse that he needs to piss. Then he grabs his clothes and makes a run for it, needing a little time to himself. A little space to wrap his head around what’s happened. He’s both relieved and disappointed when neither of them follows him. 

At school, he’s so tired that he can hardly see straight. He doesn’t hear his name being called because he’s too busy zoning out at the contents of his locker, so he jumps when someone lays their hand on his shoulder. Blinking and giving himself a shake, he turns around, finding himself face to face with Erica. 

‘You left this behind this morning’, she says, handing him his mask. 

Jackson takes it from her and stares at it for a moment, running his fingers over the leather. Memories spring to mind unbidden; dancing at the rave, kissing Isaac, touching Erica, the three of them having sex. And above it all, the feeling of being wanted – of belonging. 

He looks up at Erica, taking in the way her hair is wild this morning and the faint dark circles under her eyes. Apparently he’s not the only one feeling worse for wear today. On impulse, he reaches out to brush his fingers across her cheek; to draw her in for a gentle kiss. 

‘Thank you’, he says as he pulls back, meaning every word of it. She smiles. 

‘Thank _you_. We’ve wanted to do that for a long time.’ She casts a glance over her shoulder and Jackson sees Isaac standing across the hall. They share a look and Erica nods. Then she glances down, suddenly shy. ‘And we could do it again, if you’d like. I mean… well, this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing. It doesn’t even have to be sex. So…what do you think?’ She looks up at him again, eyes wide and hopeful. Warmth blossoms in his chest. He smiles. 

‘Yeah’, he says. ‘Yeah, I’d like that.’

**Author's Note:**

> Erica http://merimask.deviantart.com/gallery/24957999#/d4pil1a 
> 
> Isaac http://merimask.deviantart.com/gallery/24957999?offset=24#/d4ow3w8 
> 
> Jackson http://merimask.deviantart.com/gallery/24958195#/d37i2sj


End file.
